


eyes as bright as starlight (probably because they're leds).

by caticoo



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Computer Programming, F/M, Robot/Human Relationships, Slow Burn, i use last names btw, ive always wanted to tinker with this au bc i think robot!miu and inventor!kiibo is rlly interesting, kiibo's last name is idabashi but he's an exception, kiruma is my guilty pleasure ship oof........., miu is.... miu bc she doesnt have a last name, rating is T bc miu is ........................ explicit, talent swap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 22:21:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12591804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caticoo/pseuds/caticoo
Summary: they might call it problematic, but i just love that you’re automatic.talentswap au.CURRENTLY ON HIATUS.





	eyes as bright as starlight (probably because they're leds).

**Author's Note:**

> hi there. my name is cati! kiiruma is my guilty pleasure.  
> i had this idea on my mind for a while. thank you so much to ciel for encouraging me and giving me enough of a push to actually do this fic! i don't know if i'll continue this, but if i get enough positive reviews, i will. otherwise, consider this a one-shot if i don't write more.
> 
> this takes place during the ultimate talent development plan setting. furthermore, it's a talentswap au, at least between miu and kiibo. i'm not really sure about the other students yet. also, like my portrayal of ouma, i am also a little self conscious about my portrayal of miu. she's a hard character to write. i hope you can understand that.
> 
> otherwise, please enjoy this.

Kiibo Idabashi was known around Japan for his amazing inventions.

The successor of the ever famous robotic engineer, Professor Idabashi, many had expected him to grow into an amazing child from the moment he was born. Likewise, Kiibo grew into this fitting image people had painted for him -- he grew up interested in technology, intelligent in automatics, knowledgeable in putting things together and taking them apart. Robots were what interested him the most -- the fact that intelligent life, so similarly connected to humans, could be contrived from great intellect only allowed him the wish of creating life of his own. His father reassured that, one day, he would be able to craft a real-life, human-like robot like he was capable of.

Instead of sitting around waiting for this day to come, the boy took initiative into his own hands. If he couldn’t make a robot now, then he could work his way towards it -- which was how he got this invitation to attend one of Japan’s most exclusive and prestigious high schools, Hope’s Peak Academy. In the whole truth, Kiibo did not think of his inventions as something to brag about -- the world would have wholeheartedly disagreed, and praised the young boy for his creations ever since he was at a tender young age. His father and mother were proud, and he couldn’t help but feel some sort of pride for his achievements, too -- he could attend a high school with a talent: the Ultimate Inventor.

When Kiibo first arrived to the academy, he made great punctual haste to arrive at his classroom as approximately as possible. He had planned his schedule for the entire day the night prior, ensuring he glossed over every highlight of the academy -- he would come to class fifteen minutes before the school bell would ring. In this span of fifteen minutes, he would introduce himself to his classmates and make small acquaintances (it was better to start off the day knowing someone in your class!) Then, he would make the effort of paying attention to each of his teachers until lunch -- he would make his way to the cafeteria, and try out some of the food (having high expectations, as even the food was advertised to be amazing.) Perhaps he would even sit with his upperclassmen, or join a student he had befriended that morning! Lunchtime was a world of possibilities.

The rest of the day would carry out accordingly to school schedule, and after classes were over, Kiibo would participate in clean-up time. And with cleaning time coming to a close, Kiibo would then make the effort of searching throughout campus for an interesting club -- perhaps a robotics or technology club meant for the students talented in those areas? The idea made him giddy and excited -- he had never met a person his age as interested in dabbling in technology and wires and machinery like him. It would be refreshing to, and Hope’s Peak Academy seemed promising.

Arriving with high expectations to his designated classroom (he had gotten settled into his dorm room a couple days prior, having wished his family well before his three year life at Hope's Peak began), he was immediately smacked in the face by chaos once he opened the door to his classroom. A short boy, with dark hair that protruded out of the sides of his head, was clinging onto another boy dressed in mostly black -- a girl with a particularly eccentric hat and red hair was pointing accusing at the clinging one, “I'll curse you, ya know!”

“WAAAAAH, SAIHARA-CHAAAAN, SHE'S GONNA CURSE MEEEEEEE-!” The clinging boy wailed, tears shooting out of his closed eyes. Saihara attempted to calm the clinging boy with soft “Ouma-kun, please…”s and trying to generally sort out the situation. Kiibo momentarily considered stepping in for himself, but decided that interrupting may or may not have made the situation worse. Kiibo observed others in the classroom from where he stood -- his classmates didn't seem to take too large of a notice to his presence, as one student, quite small but tough looking, gazed disinterestedly out the window from his seat, covering a majority of his head with a black beanie. Another young man seemed to be talking fondly with a tanned girl dressed in summer wear of all things -- Kiibo eyed two girls, one blonde and one brunette, communicating with each other as well. Deciding the latter would be the easiest to talk to, Kiibo set his sights on approaching the two girls and introducing himself -- sauntering hastily, his small journey was soon halted by the sound of the classroom door opening.

“What on Earth…?” A lady, who looked like she could be the teacher muttered, shaking her head as she calmly approached the scene of Saihara, Ouma and the short redheaded girl. Ouma continued to wail, Saihara looked defeated, and the redheaded girl still looked angry. Kiibo tried to pay little attention, but more students piled in after the woman’s interruption.

A blue haired girl with glasses entered talking to an exceptionally tall man, who just so happened to also be wearing glasses, that _couldn't_ have been a student. Behind them, a purple haired student with a slight beard casually entered, whistling -- and behind him, a green haired student that was far too accessorized. Just moments later, another girl with long, looped pigtails entered, and huffed at the sight before her. This seemed to be the last of the students, as each one took a seat, either talking to someone or minding their own business.

Well, this would certainly be an interesting class.

 

* * *

 

Although the morning did not go exactly how he had wished, it didn't mean the rest of the day could fall apart. Perhaps he would skip out on lunch (he treated himself to a hearty breakfast, after all,) and explore more of the school grounds -- perhaps find that robotics club that interested him so. After all, he had planned on spending the eating period with a person he familiarized himself with… and that had flopped.

He would be flexible with his schedule if necessary.

Once lunch time rolled into the students’ lives, some excused themselves to the cafeteria, others stayed behind in class to eat their own, homemade bentos. It would be the perfect opportunity to traverse the school grounds, and this Kiibo did -- sauntering through the academic halls, peeking into the library, passing by the courtyards. Where would a robotics club be? Kiibo found himself wandering a little ways away from the main building, and towards the storage building near the gym -- he observed a redheaded senior of his come out with a baseball and bat, believing it was alright to explore. With the permission of the other’s actions as his reassuring mantra, Kiibo made his way into the storage room and let his eyes touch everything they could get ahold of.

The warehouse was much bigger than Kiibo had anticipated. It looked to hold everything from sports equipment to school supplies -- it was oddly creepy as well, as Kiibo had found himself alone in the storage house, in the company of shot put balls and gym clothes. The only melody that was heard was the bustle of students that vaguely rung throughout the steel walls, from the opened door at the entrance. It was a sense of aloneness he was already well acquainted with -- being isolated was nothing new, and around inanimate objects, even more so. Memories stirred up at that moment couldn't possibly cover every single time he had been in solitude, tinkering and working away at a new invention or two.

Kiibo sewed his way through all the tall aisles and shelves of items, stacked to the high ceilings. Whenever Kiibo had thought all the possible things a school could house had been seen, he was proven undoubtedly wrong when he was greeted with even _more_ aisles It was relentlessly intimidating. He had to have been walking for at least ten or so minutes, until he finally hit the very back of the warehouse -- strolling along the last passage, he took note of what was stored in the furthest section of the building. He was greeted with that he expected -- junk, but not enough to be considered total waste. Desks with broken legs, chairs with seats detached, old, out-dated textbooks that Kiibo assumed were meant to go to recycling sooner or later. The dust implied later. The inventor couldn’t help but poke and prod around -- after all, these were discarded items. If he found something that would be of use to his inventions, then he was sure that the school wouldn’t mind.

Kiibo made it his mission to find something of use to him, and his search didn’t end up in naught. He decided to take more than enough screws and bolts simply laying at the bottom of some of the dusty boxes, a couple of small metal rods, a piece of sheet aluminum. He had been pleased with his findings, quite confidently so, as he humphed, “What a successful find!” As these words traveled out of his mouth, a glint of pink caught his eye from behind discarded chalkboards -- masked behind the shadows, it would have been difficult to see at first glance. It piqued the inventor’s curiosity.

When he cleared the chalkboards out of the way (admittedly having to put much strength into it,) Kiibo nearly _screamed_ . A body of all things lay, seated politely, leaning against the back of the shelf -- over it’s head, was a plastic bag, concealing its face. The body looked nearly life-like, fingers folded delicately on top of one another, and the fear that piled into Kiibo only ten folded when he realized how _pale_ its skin was. It was most definitely a dead body. A voice in his head told him to book it -- run to a teacher and tell them of his findings, but a realization dawned over him. Any authority would be asking why he’d found the body in the first place, so far back in the warehouse… it was far too risky. He would be considered a murder suspect on his first day of school!

Kiibo took the situation into his own hands, breathing in and out, and taking deep breaths, “Oh, what should I do…?” He couldn’t stay here forever, just pondering his options -- lunch would end, and he had to choose between pretending he had never seen it (which meant placing the chalkboards back) or leaving the scene as it was. Kiibo had decided on the former, and got to work.

His hand brushed the body’s shoulder, and he immediately retracted out of fear. However, he could have sworn the touch wasn’t exactly _soft_ , like human flesh -- it was like _metal_ . Kiibo re-evaluated his options, and soon enough he found himself grasping one of the metal rods he had meant to bring back for himself, poking at the body. With every touch, the skin of the body did not sink normally -- it stayed put, making a soft _clank!_ sound, “...Huh?”

Kiibo abandoned the idea of concealing the body, and, in turn, knelt in front of the body, tucked far into the back of the shelf. With closer inspection, he could deduce it was meant to be a female -- it had notably large breasts, wore a high mini-skirt, yet beheld the appearance of a high school girl nonetheless.The inventor once again thought all of the situations out, but knew that time was a huge factor in all of this -- hastily, he impulsively chose to pull the body out of it’s place. It was _heavy_ , which pretty much confirmed his suspicions -- this girl was all solid, save for her clothes, it seemed.

It took several pulls, but soon enough, Kiibo had her out of her little hiding spot and laying against the wall opposite of the shelf. He was huffing and puffing, having not used so much of his strength in a long while -- but overall, glad he was able to successfully pull the body out of the crook. Kiibo didn’t mind the chalkboard and putting things back in it’s place -- something reassured him that nobody would be coming back there that day other than him. Just as Kiibo caught his breath and was about to examine the girl a bit more, the warning bell for lunch rung, and he found himself promising he’d come back as soon as class was over.

Even if that meant skipping cleaning time (after all, he did promise himself he was flexible).

After classes were over, Kiibo quickly rushed himself to the warehouse under the radar of Kirumi Tojo, the lady that had broken up the hassle between Ouma Kokichi (the sobbing, clinging boy) and Yumeno Himiko (the redheaded girl with the hat). Making quick haste, his first course of action was to reveal the body’s head, if it had one -- and when Kiibo lifted the plastic bag from what was the girl’s supposed skull, he was once again taken aback.

Once the bag was removed, curls of pink (blonde, perhaps? It was difficult to tell in the darker section) hair tumbled out from under the prison, landing all the way to the floor where she sat. Her face was most definitely designed to be of a woman -- her chin was gracefully curved, her nose was but a beautiful button. She even had lips, that looked to be painted a glossy, yet natural sort of pink -- and her eyes, shut closed, were absolutely brushed with eyelashes. Kiibo tampered a bit with her textures, as creepy as he thought of himself for it -- like he expected, most of everything was solid, save for her clothes. Her hair was also surprisingly soft -- a fabric-y texture, but also false -- like a wig. The only exception of it was two hairs that directly stood on the crown of her head, which were pointed upright.

Kiibo put an extra effort to get her to stand up, her robotic limbs complying to his positioning -- it took a moment, but he was able to get her balanced on her feet. The girl seemed to be several inches taller than him, and her head  stood straight to further prove her stiff-skeleton. Kiibo spoke to himself out loud, “So… is this…? Could it be…?”

The inventor rounded the girl, and was greeted with the back of her high school girl costume. Timidly, he lifted up the back her shirt and was thankfully greeted with a panel that could be opened with the help of a screwdriver. He cheered, under his breath.

“It is…! It’s a robot!”

 

* * *

 

Once he had found a screwdriver and clicked around some, he eventually found a power section in the control panel, looking to forcefully be switched off -- there was even tape holding down the switch in it’s “off” place. It didn’t take long for Kiibo to strip it off and, confidently, pull the switch to “on.” Kiibo hastily closed the back panel in order to round the girl and watch her slowly power on -- her head straightened up a smidge, and her eyelids flicked open like windshields. She was built with bright blue irises.

“Helloooo _world_ !” Her voice sounded surprisingly human, flowing as smooth as butter -- her stiff, blank position soon shifted and stretched around, finding less and less stiffness as she did. “Thought ya could get ridda me that easy, huh, _fuckers_!? M1-U is back, bitch!”

“M1-U?” The name sounded only slightly familiar, but with his excitement, Kiibo couldn’t quite recall where he had heard the letters and number from.

“Ah--” M1-U shot a glance towards Kiibo, the source of noise. “The fuck? Who’re you? Where the hell am I?”

“Um…! I’m Kiibo Idabashi. This is the warehouse at Hope’s Peak Academy…”

“ _Eh_? Idabitchie? Never heard of you,” M1-U huffed, arms now placed on her well-defined hips.

“W-Well! I’ve never heard of you, either. What kind of robot are you?” Kiibo inquired, and it seemed as if M1-U took offense to his comment, her rough exterior softening a notch.

“W-What? H-Hey, fuck you! I’m the gorgeous, exclusive, best-M1-U around! That’s fuckin’ right -- no M1-U gets better than this!” M1-U cackled. “M1-U gets pretty ass-full though. Call me Miu. It’s easier for you to moan out, too.”

“ _Moan_?” Kiibo parroted, dragging out the vowel sounds as his cheeks burned bright red. “W-Wait… hold on.” The inventor quickly whipped out his phone, and searched for “M1-U” on Google. Miu sneered.

“If’yre gonna use that twink of technology, I guess I’ll be taking my leave then!” Miu cracked, and was about to leave the area -- a couple of whines from Kiibo made her stay. “F-Fine… just what the hell are you keeping me back here for anyways? Huh… you look like you just popped outta your mom’s vagina, but maybe… could you have some dirty fantasies, Idabitchie?”

“H-Hey, please--” Kiibo tried, clicking on the Wikipedia page that loaded for M1-U. His eyes immediately landed on the description.

_The M1-U was a successful sex robot in the shape of a busty, sex-appealing woman to aid in masturbation and sexual intercourse._

Oh.

The picture that accompanied the page looked much different than the M1-U in front of Kiibo -- in the profile picture was a robot that did look similar to Miu, but wore a less extravagant costume and looked to be much more submissive in her shot. Miu sneered again, “I can read whatcha lookin’ up, ya know. F-Finding out my innermost past with the click of a button… huh, maybe you’re just looking for a way to blackmail me into cumming all over--”

“I-I DON’T MEAN IT LIKE THAT--!” Kiibo nearly screamed, still completely flushed. So that explained why Miu was so… well, _adult_ \-- she was programmed to be a sex object, a blow up doll that reacted to your touch. It was likely she didn’t have any other purpose than that.

“Eh? The fuck, then? You’re the type that enjoys all the foreplay and shit, huh? My programming isn’t the best for that, ya know. You coulda stocked up for--” Miu paused, realizing what she was saying, before retracting her statement. “Ya know what!? Fuck it, Idabitchie, if ya want to do all that foreplay shit then go fuckin’ crazy!”

“Miu… l-listen,” Kiibo tried, attempting to calm her down by placing his hands on her shoulders. Miu didn’t have the ability to stiffen, but he could tell if she did, she would have. “I’m not interested in having sex with you o-or anything… I’m interested in your AI and your machinery. Um… I know it’s a bit strange to ask of a robot, but would it be alright if you let me… er… develop you?”

Miu’s blush function heightened at Kiibo’s proposal, “W-What the hell? You could just ask to fuck me, y-ya know… you don’t have to ask like that! Shit, Idabitchie! You’re makin’ by heat producers overwork themselves!”

“A-Ah, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…,” Kiibo apologized, shaking his head. “Again, I’m not interested in your sex function. I want to study your other functions… my father is one of the greatest professors in robotics and mechanisms, and he had yet to deem me as experienced enough to tamper with one of his more advanced robots before my residence here. And, er, since it seems you haven’t been used in a while…”

Miu seemed to consider this for a moment, staring at Kiibo with her sensors before shrugging, huffing out, “Eh, fine. I don’t give too much of a shit, and looks like I don’t have a better place to go. ‘Cordin’ to calculations, I’ve been left in this shithole for four or five fuckin’ years. I could use explorin’ some. Reroutin’ my maps and shit.”

“Great. Let’s go, then,” Kiibo smiled fondly, leading the way with his materials in hand. Miu followed suit, quietly, still holding onto the assumption that Kiibo would be using her for sexual advances -- that wouldn’t be happening for a long time.

For now, Kiibo wanted to study everything else about her.


End file.
